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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29948268">Next to Never</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudasComplex/pseuds/JudasComplex'>JudasComplex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blaseball (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Homophobia, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:27:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29948268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudasComplex/pseuds/JudasComplex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cudi di Batterino is a hitter for the Tokyo Lift. And one of these days, he's going to figure out if his teammate is flirting with him or not. In the meantime, he's going to slowly combust.</p><p>As with all things blaseball, this is strictly my interpretation of the characters, as inspired by their counterparts on Twitter. Oddball collection of short fic.</p><p>Name is stolen from "Right Here Waiting" by Richard Marx.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything was tired and sore. What should have felt like a good workout just felt like being run over by a truck, as Cudi tossed the bat aside with the others. He picked up his phone again, swiping away the series of messages from Kori, and looked at the time. Late, but not that late. Probably time to get home, but...</p><p>Home was a lot of memories he didn't want to deal with right now.</p><p>Come morning, he'd be fine -  like usual - but for now he wanted to sit with the feelings. Losing Gallup had been hard. Even though he hadn't known her well, the time they'd had...had been powerful. He'd never have been able to tell off Kori like that without her nudge, even as drunk as he'd been last night. Losing Mandy...that was a spike to the heart. Mandy was Lift. Mandy was a friend.</p><p><em>Dammit. </em>He could feel the tears burning at his eyes again. He didn't want to cry.</p><p>At least he'd been able to speak to Mandy, before it was all said and done. And he'd messaged Gallup.</p><p>Walking the streets, it seemed so quiet - a contrast from the chaos in his head. Things had been wild before the Lift had come to play with the rest of the ILB, sure. But he didn't remember it being like this. Feeling like this. Had the teams not been as close? He couldn't remember. It seemed like an eternity ago.</p><p>He found a park, one he'd first visited when he moved here, and sat down on a bench. Cudi couldn't imagine how Sam had to be feeling. He knew Sam and Gallup had been close, if not more. It didn't bear thinking of. It had been a while since Cudi had been that close to someone, but still...</p><p>"Hey." A voice from behind him made him jump, turning to look. Just out of the shadows was his teammate - and if he'd thought about it, he shouldn't have been surprised.</p><p>"Val?"</p><p>The pitcher stepped forward and came around to stand more in front of Cudi. "You okay?"</p><p>"I...yeah? Why?"</p><p>"Because it's an hour to game time tomorrow and you're nowhere to be found." Val crossed his arms. "So I'll try again. You okay?"</p><p>Cudi sighed. "Elections are just stressful, man. And now we're down Mandy. I know that's the game, but..." </p><p>The pitcher nodded. "Yeah, I get it. Next season's gonna be rough. But that don't mean we give up."</p><p>"I don't want to give up. I wanna play, an' fight, an' get our teammate back." Cudi's eyes went down to his hands. "I just...was it always like this? Before?"</p><p>Cudi heard Val sigh, and a moment later the time traveler sat down on the bench next to his teammate. "Honestly? Don't really remember. Ain't never been easy though."</p><p>"It's gonna be weird, yo. Without Mandy."</p><p>"It'll be weird all the way around, dude. It's blaseball." When Cudi didn't answer, Val nudged his shoulder. "That's a joke, man."</p><p>"I know." Cudi was still staring at his hands.</p><p>"Cudi." Val didn't continue until the hitter looked over at him. "Can I take you home?"</p><p>He looked back at his hands. "Yeah, I guess."</p><p>Val stood and offered Cudi his hand, which after a moment he took - and the pitcher tugged him to his feet, then wrapped an arm around Cudi's shoulders. "Let's go, man."</p><p>After a few steps, the hitter put his arm around Val's waist, but couldn't think of anything to say. He wanted to apologize for the other night again, but Val hadn't responded to Cudi's first text message so he didn't really know what else to say, other than treat it like nothing had happened. And honestly, nothing had, other than Cudi sputtering like an idiot and calling Val hot. Which wasn't a lie, so...</p><p>Once at the complex, Val nudged the door open and walked Cudi back into his living room. "You gonna be good?"</p><p>Val started to pull away, and Cudi's hand caught on Val's jacket, grabbing at the fabric. "I...can you just..." His voice trailed off, but then seemed to realize what it sounded like he was implying. "Not like to...I just mean..." The hitter sighed. "I'm just not ready for the place to be empty."</p><p>As always, Val seemed unruffled by Cudi's stammering. "I can hang for a bit. You just wanna chill?"</p><p>"Yeah." He stifled a yawn. "Ah, sorry."</p><p>Val smirked and sat down on one end of Cudi's couch. "No worries, dude. I get it. You can lay down if you want."</p><p>"I..." Cudi blinked at the pitcher. "You serious, man?"</p><p>The time thief shrugged. "Sure."</p><p>He hesitated for a moment, but Val just slapped his leg as invitation, so the hitter gave in and sat down, reclining back so that his head could rest on Val's leg. Glancing up at the pitcher, he saw Val's smirk soften into a small smile as he brushed Cudi's hair out of his face. "Thanks, man."</p><p>"Sure thing. Rest up; we got a hell of a game tomorrow."</p><p>And his eyes drifted closed, with the feeling of Val's fingers running through his hair, Cudi drifted to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cudi was pumped. <em>A 3-run home run.</em> That was unheard of - at least, for him. It was a joke, of course - what with his name tied with his (now even worse) batting stats - but it was one he was comfortable with. He could laugh at himself because if he didn't, what could he laugh at? He'd go insane.</p><p>But today was a good day. The team was playing well (not fantastically, but winning the first two games of the season was a major confidence boost) and he'd had an awesome at-bat. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, shadowboxing in a corner, he was humming to himself--</p><p>--and out of nowhere, Val appeared and caught one of his hands. Cudi jolted, but Val kept a grip on one fist. "Jeez, Val. Gonna give me a heart attack, yo."</p><p>"At least it isn't a broken hand?" Val let Cudi extend his arm - and sure enough, their hands hit the wall. "Always have a spotter."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah." Val let Cudi's hand go, and the batter rubbed it on instinct, as if he'd actually hit the wall. "Have nothing better to do than keep me from hurting myself?"</p><p>Val shrugged, a gesture that was becoming increasingly common from the pitcher. "Perk of being a time traveler. I can do a lot in a short window." He winked.</p><p>And as was also becoming frustratingly common, Cudi couldn't think of a damn thing to say. "I...yeah, thanks." <em>Brilliant.</em></p><p>Val's head tilted as he crossed his arms. "You okay?"</p><p>Cudi nodded, probably too fast. "Yeah, m'fine. Just jazzed from the games."</p><p>"That was a hell of a hit." Val's lips quirked up.</p><p>That got Cudi grinning again. "Thanks, yo. Felt boss."</p><p>"Looked it." Val glanced behind his shoulder, then leaned against the wall behind him. "So you just punchin' at nothing?"</p><p>The hitter glared. "Just working out energy."</p><p>"Mmhmm." Val's eyes flickered over Cudi, just enough to make the batter feel his ears burn. "You wanna fight?"</p><p>Cudi blinked. "What?"</p><p>Val pushed himself up off the wall and gestured to the batter to come at him. "Punch at something instead of the wall. C'mon."</p><p>"Do you even know how to fight?"</p><p>"Do you?" Val leveled his gaze at the batter. "Come at me."</p><p>It was a fair question, since the answer was "no, not really," but if Val wanted to fight then Cudi wasn't going to back down from the challenge. He fell back into the best stance he knew, and watched as Val's lips quirked again as he shrugged out of his coat, tossed it aside, and did the same. "No time travel cheating."</p><p>"Aw, c'mon, have a little trust."</p><p>"I do, which is why I asked."</p><p>That just amused the pitcher further. "Fine, no time shenanigans. Give it your best shot."</p><p>After a beat, Cudi did just that - came at the pitcher fists flying. For the most part, Val was dodging anything Cudi threw at him, though he got a couple hits off - as well as Val did on him. But Val had an edge, and Cudi knew it - and he assumed, Val knew too. Cudi had been doing this for a while already. And all it was going to take was one wrong move--</p><p>--and there it was, one punch that didn't go quite where Cudi wanted it to, and Val grabbed the advantage. Before he could make a second move, Val had sidestepped around behind him, lifted him off the ground and thrown him back down - and as soon as he hit the mat, Val was on top of him, one knee against his shoulder blades and the other leg hooked over his torso, as the pitcher pulled Cudi's arm around his own neck, as if Cudi had put himself in a headlock. And then Val stopped, just enough pressure on Cudi's arm and wrist to show exactly how much the hitter had lost the fight. </p><p>But he wasn't giving up. His free arm lashed out, hitting at Val's leg as the batter tried to squirm into any other position - but the pitcher had him caught. In an instant, Val caught Cudi's other wrist and shifted his weight, bringing both of Cudi's arms up beside his head where the thief kept them pinned, with his legs on either side of the batter.</p><p>Which put the thief's face dangerously close to his own, as he could feel Val's breath on his skin. His breathing had shallowed and he knew it had nothing to do with the fight or the pin.</p><p>"You beat yet?" Val's voice was low, soft...almost too much so.</p><p>Cudi couldn't speak. His eyes just watched Val's, glinting in amused delight.</p><p>The pitcher leaned in a fraction, eyes still on the batter's. "Are you?"</p><p>Cudi managed a soft, nondescript sound.</p><p>And for a millisecond, Cudi thought Val was going to kiss him.</p><p>But in that same breath, the time thief stood up and stepped aside, offering Cudi a hand. "That's what I thought."</p><p>It was a long moment before Cudi's brain reconfigured itself enough to start breathing again and let Val help him up. "That was cheap, yo."</p><p>The pitcher scoffed. "You lost, man. Fair and square. No time shenanigans."</p><p>"Uh-huh. I'd beat you if we started fresh, man."</p><p>"Happy to beat you again some other day."</p><p>"Smart ass."</p><p>"Guilty." The pitcher shot Cudi a roguish grin. "You complaining?"</p><p>Cudi glared. "M'not answering that."</p><p>Val just laughed. "I'll take it. C'mon, we've got practice."</p><p>There was no chance he was going to be able to focus on practice, that much was for sure.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>This is a disaster.</em>
</p><p>Cudi tossed his phone away from him, horrified at the nightmare unfolding. <em>How does Lou think this is helping?!</em> Of course, the answer was, it was undoubtedly helping the situation more than Cudi was, by being silent and hopeless. He couldn't fault anyone who had been calling him out; he knew full well he wasn't helping his situation...</p><p>...but gods, they weren't the ones who were going to have to play on the team with him when he said no.</p><p>Yes, he could be optimistic and say "well maybe it'll turn out well" but given that Val still hadn't responded to Lou's question and had given non-descript answers all day to everything else...Cudi didn't know how to react. It had been all for the best that he hadn't seen the pitcher much that day, other than the few times they were in the dugout together, and Val kept to himself during games.</p><p>Cudi couldn't look at him. Being drunk and flirting was one thing. This...was something entirely different. This was a disaster in waiting; this was the destruction of seasons and seasons of careful reactions and watching his words...all coming crashing down like a house of cards in a hurricane.</p><p>The bad ending had always greatly outweighed the positive. He could handle never knowing, never saying anything, never acting. He could handle being on the sidelines.</p><p>But rejection, when they were still on the same team...no.</p><p>He convinced himself it wasn't anything major, it was just a temporary thing, just an attraction to the novel and unknown, and that it would fade. (It hadn't.) Convinced himself that it wasn't important, and life would just continue as normal forever and it would never come up. (Wishful thinking.) But every time the pitcher caught his eye, made some flippant comment with a wink before vanishing, every time he caught a glint of a violet jacket zipping around a corner, his breath caught and his stomach flipped and he couldn't speak all over again and it was really getting ridiculous at this point.</p><p>He was a grown ass blaseball player, not some preteen fanboy.</p><p>
  <em>You sure about that?</em>
</p><p>Cudi shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind, pulling the blanket up over his head as he laid down on the bed. The fans had been eating the whole fiasco up, sending him links to any cheesy love song they could think of, though the last straw had been REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling" because it hit far too close to home. Closer than he wanted to admit.</p><p><em>This is stupid. I need to stop thinking about this.</em> But his mind wouldn't stop. He kept going back to the other day, when Val had pinned him against the floor. Cudi could still feel the pitcher's fingers on his wrists, legs straddled over his waist, breath a whisper against his skin. <em>Gods.</em> He swallowed hard, fighting back the memory.</p><p>He'd wanted nothing more than for the pitcher to kiss him in that instant.</p><p>
  <em>This stupid crush is getting out of control. I need to stop.</em>
</p><p>Regardless of anything else that happened, he could <em>not</em> keep going like this.</p><p>A soft rap at the door sent Cudi's heart into his throat. <em>No no no no no no no...</em></p><p>"Cud?" <em>Gods dammit.</em> Of course it was him. Of <em>course</em> it was him.</p><p>Cudi didn't move, barely breathed. Maybe he'd think he was asleep.</p><p>He heard Val sigh. "Cudi, I know you're awake." Cudi stayed silent. Val gave another moment. "Cudi?"</p><p>He couldn't speak. Val didn't sound like he was in his usual cocky mood, but... no, he couldn't. He couldn't.</p><p>After what felt like an eternity, Cudi heard Val sigh again and step away from the door, and finally he felt like he could breathe again. Eyes clenched shut, he tried to push everything else out of his mind. All the lyrics, all the memories, everything pushing its way into his head was getting shoved out, out <em>out</em> until there was silence.</p><p>
  <em>But he could remember the first day they'd met.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cudi was late, of course Cudi was late, and he was rushing to get to the stadium because the coaches had already said that they weren't going to tolerate tardiness and he didn't want to throw away this chance--and he hadn't seen the player at the door and crashed face first into him. Cudi over-balanced and fell to the floor, while the other guy caught himself on the doorframe. "Whoa. You okay?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The voice had caught him first - the jacket next - and then the piercing gaze from behind the amethyst hair. He'd flicked his hair out of his face, and offered Cudi a hand. "Wh--oh, yeah, sorry." Cudi took the guy's hand and let himself get pulled back to his feet. "Running behind."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He quirked a smile at that. "Time not on your side?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Never, hah."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He set a hand on Cudi's shoulder, and as he'd pulled the door open there had been a short burst of wind that had confused Cudi at the time - though now as he looked back, he started to wonder if Val had done a short time skip back. "Well, you're here now, yeah? C'mon. I'm Val. Assume you're on the Lift?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Cudi. Good to meet ya. And yeah, hope I still am."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And they'd walked in, the coach looked up and said "ah, right on time, our last two players," and Cudi had always thought he'd been being sarcastic.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now he wasn't quite so sure.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it had been like that ever since, just sporadic enough that Cudi never really put them all together until now, tiny moments where Val had appeared in the nick of time and stopped something minorly problematic from happening. He knew it wasn't just him; he'd seen Val do it to the other members of the team too, but...he'd always chalked it up to good timing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Val was many things, but no one's timing was that good, unless they knew it was coming.</em>
</p><p>And then his mind was back several nights ago, drifting to sleep with his head on Val's leg, the pitcher's fingers idly messing with the ends of his hair while his other hand rested on Cudi's hip... That had been more familiar than usual for the thief, but hadn't seemed...too? unlikely? At least, at the time. Now, of course, Cudi wasn't sure of anything. Not about himself, not about Val...</p><p>He ran his hand through his hair and felt someone else's fingers, and squeezed his eyes shut tighter.</p><p>
  <em>This has <b>got</b> to stop.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Tigers were going to be a hell of a series (no pun intended) all on their own.</p><p>Looking at the weather and seeing 3 eclipses in a row added a whole other level of pain.</p><p>But seeing the pitching schedule...</p><p>Cudi's whole body went cold. The eclipses always made him nervous, especially after last season's elections, and seeing all the fire that had already come down this season. But now...suddenly this was throwing the situation into a whole new light. Usually he was just hoping <em>he </em>kept out of the ump's eyes.</p><p>It hadn't occurred to him that the pitcher could get incined too.</p><p><em>No...no no no, this can't happen. Not now. Not yet. I can't lose him. Please, gods, I can't lose him.</em> He was hyperventilating and couldn't stop; his hands were shaking and he could barely type. Vela was doing her best to reassure him. Lou sent messages from elsewhere trying to calm him down. Even Val had shot him a text asking if he was okay, though it had been in reference to something else entirely.</p><p>He managed a message back to Val, which he hoped sounded halfway normal and knew there was no way it did. Asked him to be safe, as if he had a choice in the matter. As if any of them did.</p><p>
  <em>I'm scared, Lou. ...I'm really, really scared.</em>
</p><p>He hadn't been this afraid...he couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt like this. It had never occurred to him. Never a thought in his mind that any of this could happen to <em>him</em>. To them. Intellectually, yes - he knew no one on the team was truly safe including himself, but...somehow it seemed more abstract.</p><p>Staring at an eclipse with Val on the mound was no longer abstract. It was crystal clear, and it was terrifying.</p><p>A text came back. <b><em>i'll try my best.</em></b></p><p><em>ok cool. yeah, i just... ...yeah.</em> Too many words he wanted to say, too many thoughts he couldn't put onto the screen, too much in his mind to slow down.</p><p>Val's response was quicker this time. <b><em>we'll both be playing this round. i got ur back if you got mine ;D</em></b></p><p>A memory came crashing back, one of the last times he remembered them playing in an eclipse, back last season, and Vela had been the one terrified of who might end in flames next.</p><p>
  <em>"Be safe, you have an eclipse next game," she'd said.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"We'll all stick together and get through it," Cudi had responded. "Yeah, Val?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You heard me, Cudi. Always."</em>
</p><p>Always. Always always always.</p><p>
  <em>...yeah. :-) Always, Val. you know it.</em>
</p><p>It didn't make the panic go away, but it eased the worst of it, even if by just a fraction.</p><hr/><p>The whole game he felt nauseous. Staring at the sky, pleading with whatever gods were out there that they'd show mercy, at least today. Panicked as they tied the game. Breathing again when the Lift put them 2-3.  And again when the Tigers made it 4-3. Trying to swing and miss to end the game and hitting a single instead. The immense relief when Silvaire got out.</p><p>
  <em>it's over. oh gods it's over.</em>
</p><p>Everyone was so calm. Relieved, sure - but it was just like a normal game had finished. Like any other game.</p><p>His phone pinged with a notification - Val had made a post. <b><em>still alive</em></b></p><p>Cudi blew out a breath and shot one back. <em>still alive. :-)</em></p><p>He wanted to run over there; he wanted to wrap his arms around the pitcher and never let go again. Wanted to feel that he was still real, still tangible and present as much as any blaseball player could be. <em>You have literally never seen anyone hug him before in the entire time you've known him. How do you think that's going to be a good idea? Think about your actions for about three more seconds, di Batterino. </em>But he had thought about it, and at this point, he wasn't sure it mattered what Val did in reaction. He was going to lose his mind. If he never had another moment, he needed - he <em>needed</em> - to know that at least the next few minutes were going to be okay. Even if Val pushed him off and told him to never do it again, it would be worth it for those few seconds. To know he was real, was alive, was right there...</p><p>
  <em>Screw it. I don't care.</em>
</p><p>As they were making their way back from the field, Cudi ducked around a few of his teammates and caught Val's arm, wrapping his arms around the pitcher and hugging as tight as he could. He could feel the thief tense, clearly not having expected this (go figure) but after a moment, he seemed to relax, one hand resting on Cudi's shoulder. After a moment, Val spoke, and Cudi could hear the amused smile on his face. "Oh. Thanks."</p><p>The comment kicked Cudi's brain back into action, and he let go of Val, stepping back and running a trembling hand through his hair. "O-oh, sorry. That, uh..." He coughed. "Heh. Yeah. Sorry." Then a deep breath. "Just glad we're all okay, yo."</p><p>That got Val to laugh. "Same. It was pretty close, huh?"</p><p>Cudi nodded, ruffling his own hair. "Hell yeah it was. Damn, 3 eclipses in a row. No thanks, heh. ...But yeah, close games." Hands were still shaking. Stomach still in knots.</p><p>But the thief was right there, real as ever, that stupid roguish grin on his face...</p><p>...and he could breathe again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even through the tears in his eyes, he could see the faint glow on his hands. <em>I've fought this for so long.</em></p><p>He'd never wanted to be a batter. Oh of course, it was expected of him - look at the name. The Di Batterino family didn't get where they were from being pitchers, now did they? Sure, everyone remembers old Uncle Lenny; he was a scoundrel, but he still hit better than he pitched, and wasn't that a surprise to everyone on the field! No, Cudi, you'll be a batter like all the rest of us, don't you worry.</p><p>It never mattered that he hated batting. He <em>wanted</em> to pitch. Hell, he could demonstrably prove he was <em>better</em> at pitching! But they said be a batter or nothing, so he'd chosen nothing. Avoided the splort he loved for years, because he didn't want to be just the next one in a line of Di Batterinos...and know he'd never live up to the name. No amount of training could make up for a lack of drive.</p><p>But it was too much. He wanted the field, he wanted the rush. And he had one last chance, when he'd heard the Lift was being formed. So he jumped on it, put everything into trying out for the team...and had made it. He wasn't sure how or why, but he'd made it, and he'd never looked back. </p><p>And then it happened.</p><p>Sometime in the middle of training, he realized something seemed different, something felt different. A shift in his stance, the way he held the bat, a tilt of the head where he hadn't done it before...and he was hitting like another person. Like a totally different player.</p><p>...like his relatives.</p><p>Any time he had the bat in his hands, it was like a hundred little whispers showed up at the back of his mind, shifting everything he did, tapping into the knowledge of Di Batterino MVPs past, and sending the ball flying farther than Cudi had ever been able to hit before. And he <em>hated </em>it. This was everything he hadn't wanted. All his family needed was one good reason to point and say 'well then, aren't you glad you finally came to your senses and became a batter, hmmmmm?' He'd never hear the end of it. He didn't want to do it.</p><p>So he'd pushed it away. Locked it down until it was a murmur at the edge of his hearing, the glow not even visible unless it was midnight on a cloudy evening with no moon. And he wasn't horrible, but he wasn't Di Batterino level, and his family pushed him away. <em>Fine. Let them push. I don't care.</em> If they weren't going to let him be who he wanted to be - if they were going to force him into this - then they could leave for all he cared. He'd play for the Lift, and work his way up, and maybe make his way into the rotation in time.</p><p>And for so many seasons, it had been fine.</p><p>Until Season 12.</p><p>Down in the ILB, against the remnants of a manic peanut god, in the middle of a game he'd choked on one of the infernal legumes, and spent most of the rest of the game not being able to feel his fingers. And the next time he went to bat...it was like he'd never held a bat before in his life. The damned peanut had tanked what skills he did have, and left him a remnant at the bottom of the barrel of the team. He was barely good enough to keep on the team at this point, let alone ever pitch. The Fans were ruthless. Either you excelled, or you died.</p><p>And now, with incinerations left and right, players being pushed back into the Shadows to who knew what kind of end...he needed to do something. They'd Shadow him if he wasn't careful, and then... Images of his teammates flashed through his mind: Stijn, Ayanna, Quitter, Nandy, Lotus, Silvaire...</p><p>...Val.</p><p>Cudi's hands tightened on the bat. The Fans - the umps - they'd have to take him down in flames if they wanted him gone. He refused to be separated from... his team... by maniacal fans who thirsted for blood.</p><p>
  <em>This is what I can do. This is my last shot to stay relevant. It's all I have left.</em>
</p><p>He'd never let the magic properly consume him before. He didn't know what it would do. Which was why he'd left for the batting cages in the middle of the night, not speaking a word to anyone, slipping out as silent as the night itself. He'd never told anyone about the spirits. They didn't need to know.</p><p>Now, he guessed they'd find out.</p><p>He closed his eyes, lowering barricades in his mind he'd never dreamed would come down. Letting in the voices, letting in the whispers, letting them set him up, turn on the pitching machine, lift the bat to his shoulder.</p><p><em>Crack.</em> A ball sailed for the stands.</p><p><em>Crack.</em> A line drive straight into center field.</p><p><em>Crack.</em> Inches from the machine.</p><p>A door opened behind him. He didn't turn to look.</p><p><em>Crack.</em> Another straight past the scoreboard.</p><p>"Cudi?" He knew the voice, but it was too soft, too uncertain. It didn't sound right. Tears streaked down his face.</p><p><em>Crack.</em> Another line drive.</p><p>"Cudi, what...what are you doing; what's happening?" <em>Why did he sound so concerned? Gods, Val, why are you here...?</em></p><p><em>Crack.</em> Straight down the third base line.</p><p>Now he was at the gate; Cudi could hear the chain link door swing open. "Cudi, what the hell." Now the tone sounded familiar. "What are you doing? What is this?"</p><p>"Trick up my sleeve." It didn't even sound like his voice anymore. Too many whispers. Too many other people crowding their memories in. Too many breaks in the voice where the batter named Cudi used to live. "Generations of Di Batterino players, all channeled through one bat." <em>Crack.</em> "I never wanted to be a batter. I wanted to pitch. But not in my family, oh no." <em>Crack.</em> "So I never played, until I found the Lift. Always dreamed I'd be on the rotation one day." <em>Crack.</em> "And then the peanut came." <em>Crack. </em>"And any chance I had at that was gone." <em>Crack.</em> "And now the Fans are talking about the Shadows again, and I know I'm not good enough to stay on the roster alone." <em>Crack.</em> His voice was shattering. "So I'm letting them come. Letting them do what they've wanted to do since I started on this team." <em>Crack.</em> "Take control. Channel through me. Make me the best of the best the family had to offer."</p><p><em>Crack.</em> Almost hit the machine again. His arms were sore from how hard he was swinging. Maybe if he just hit one ball hard enough...</p><p>"Cudi, stop." The thief stood across from him, though Cudi could only barely see him in his peripheral vision. "You don't know that."</p><p>"Tell me I'm wrong." <em>Crack. </em>He couldn't swing harder. ...could he?</p><p>"You know I can't do that. We can't predict the Fans. Not even me."</p><p>"This is what I have, Val." The last threads holding him together snapped, and he choked on the sob. "This is all I have left."</p><p><em>Crrrraaack!</em> The ball went flying, and with a shriek of protest, the bat snapped in half.</p><p>Val flipped off the pitching machine, but Cudi was still trying to swing with the handle of the bat trapped in his hands. The pitcher tried to catch Cudi's arm, but couldn't quite get close enough without putting himself in danger of getting clubbed by the broken bat - so ducking under the swing, Val came around behind Cudi and caught his arms. "Cudi - <em>Cudi.</em>" When Cudi didn't slow, Val pulled the batter back and wrapped his arms around his chest, pinning Cudi's arms down the best he could. "Cudi, <em>stop.</em>"</p><p>Defeated, Cudi dropped the broken bat and sobbed, falling back against Val and making the pitcher stumble until they hit the fence and he could hold them both up. Cudi stared at his hands, still luminescing in the darkness. "Why are you stopping me; this is all I have left..."</p><p>"No, it's <em>not</em>." Val's voice was strained - Cudi assumed from having someone leaning against him. "If I thought this was a good idea, I wouldn't be here."</p><p>"It doesn't <em>matter</em>!" The batter's voice splintered. "They'll just send me away!"</p><p>"<em>I'd rather lose you to the Shadows than to what I saw tomorrow!</em>"</p><p>That cut through the noise. Enough to hear the ragged breathing behind him, enough to feel the tremble in the arms around him. "Wh...what...?"</p><p>Val's voice was rough in a way Cudi had never heard before. "I don't know who you sent out in your place tomorrow, but it's not my teammate. It's not..." Val's voice hitched. "It's not you. And I don't care how well he hits, he doesn't get to look like you and not be you."</p><p>"Why do you care." The spirits were scratching, itching at his brain, trying to make their way back out, even without a bat in his hand. It didn't matter.</p><p>"The fuck do you mean, why do I care?" Now that Cudi wasn't actively fighting him, Val let him go - but only so that he could push the batter against the fence and stand in front of him, a hand on either shoulder. "You're my teammate."</p><p>"You'd get a new one."</p><p>"So? Not like we all forgot about Mandy when Silvaire showed up." Cudi didn't have a response to that. "I wouldn't care if you were the worst player in the league, Cudi. You're one of us. You matter. You're important to us."</p><p>Cudi looked up at Val, and he could see his own reflection in the lenses of the pitcher's goggles - and even his eyes were glowing now. Blank, empty, lifeless. A neon green-blue to compliment his hair. But when he finally focused on his teammate's face... he blinked. Val's eyes were bloodshot, streaked with exhaustion and pain, desperately looking for something in Cudi's eyes that he wasn't finding. "No." It was weak, but it was all he could think of.</p><p>"You don't get to say no; it's not your call. You don't get to control what the team thinks about you."</p><p>"Who gives a shit. The team'll get over it and they'll get a better batter out of it."</p><p>"<em>No.</em>" Val dug his fingers into Cudi's arms. "We get some...some..." He shook his head. "I don't even know how to explain it." Val fell silent for a moment. "You...well, guess it makes sense now. You were possessed. A blaseball machine." Now Val broke eye contact. "You scared the shit out of me, man."</p><p>"...what?" Nothing about that sentence wanted to parse.</p><p>"I've seen shit, Cudi. I've seen a lot of it, and I know what happens to people who do what you're doing now. It's never good. Shit's how people get corrupted. Mind broken. Not a person anymore."</p><p>"Bet I'd still be able to play blaseball."</p><p>"Dammit, you're not <em>listening.</em>" Val shook Cudi. "We don't care if possessed you is the best fucking blaseball player to step on a diamond. We..." He huffed out a sigh. </p><p>When he didn't start talking again, Cudi tried. "Val?"</p><p>"I don't care." Val's voice was quiet, understated. "I don't care if you're the best player in the league. I don't care if the team would like it better, though I know they wouldn't. They don't. Didn't." He cleared his throat. "I don't give a shit about all of that. You're my teammate. You're...you're my friend. I...you..." This time, Val's cough hid a growl. "You...mean...a lot to me. And I can't watch someone walk around who looks like you and sounds like you, but really, really isn't you." Val finally looked back up at Cudi, eyes glossy. "I couldn't figure out what had happened. I've gone through the past six hours for almost a week, trying to figure out where you'd gone."</p><p><em>Wh...what...</em> Cudi's brain refused to process anything the pitcher was saying. "Val...I..."</p><p>"I wasn't stopping until I found you. I couldn't stop." The pitcher's voice was rough. "And I'm not letting you go now." Val leaned forward, just enough so that their heads were resting together, and Cudi could just feel the edges of Val's goggles against his skull. "Don't you ever fucking do that to me again."</p><p>After a long moment, Cudi closed his eyes and reached up so that his hands could rest on Val's forearms, just...existing. And slowly...slowly...the whispers faded, the walls built up again...and he was just himself in his mind, with the faint whir of the fans from the cages in the background, and the soft sound of his teammate...his <em>friend</em>...evening out his breathing. Cudi couldn't tell which one of them was shaking anymore.</p><p>"You mean a lot to me too, ya know," Cudi offered, finally sounding like himself again, if exhausted.</p><p>"I fucking better at this point, cause I'm losing track of how many times I've saved your sorry ass."</p><p>A beat, and then Cudi laughed - softly, but a genuine laugh. "I owe you the world, Val Hitherto."</p><p>Val shifted enough so that he could move one hand from Cudi's shoulder to the side of his face - which made Cudi open his eyes and meet Val's gaze, soft and amused. "Make me one promise."</p><p>"Anything."</p><p>"Never - <em>ever</em> - fucking do this to me again."</p><p>"Deal."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Jumping around a bit now - with the introduction of Silvaire Semiquaver into the mix. Timeline? What timeline?</p><p>Words from Val or Silvaire are co-opted from their Twitter accounts. You two are the best.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He's tried very hard to not just snoop on his teammates.</p><p>Not that he's watching them do anything untoward, just...well, from the Shadows, there's not much to watch. He watches the pre-season games, he watches practice...when Mandy's around, he'll talk with them, but otherwise, it's just darkness and silence. It's easier to see them now, after Silvaire had been able to shift both her and Val into the Shadows for a moment...</p><p>Gods, he'd never be able to stop thanking her for that. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to care for her as well, over the season they'd had together...until it was her and Val, risking so much to come to the Shadows, just to convince him that he hadn't been forgotten. That they'd still come back for him. That he wouldn't be in the Shadows forever.</p><p>He tried not to think about her saying that it ought to have been her. Even if she'd been in the Shadows before, especially now that he knew what it was like? He wouldn't wish this on anyone. Mandy seemed to have made the most of it, but still...</p><p>So he'd tried to keep a part of the team this way. Watching them from afar, trying to do what little he could just by willing good vibes to them. </p><p>Being able to hold onto those moments, the ones in the Shadows and the brief one on their side, were the only things keeping him anchored, if he was honest with himself. The feeling of Silvaire's words against his ear, Val running up to him just like Cudi himself had done to Val after that Tigers game...being able to hear - really hear - Val say he loved him. Something that not even in his wildest dreams would actually happen. But...maybe it had taken something drastic, but here they were.</p><p>And now all he needed to do was hang in there until the next election. They'd get him out. He was sure of it.</p><hr/><p>It wasn't until right before the season proper was about to start that he began to wonder if something was happening. He couldn't hear anyone all that well, at least not from here, so all he could see were that conversations happened. And Val and Q had always talked a lot; that wasn't new. There was a backstory there that Cudi had no belief he'd ever fully understand and he was okay with that. It seemed like it was more than could reasonably be explained anyway. But...something seemed different. They'd had some conversation in Silvaire's room, and now...</p><p>...she was cooking?</p><p>Cudi had no idea if cooking was a normal pastime for Silvaire or not; he'd never noticed or asked. But the legscraper had decked out the kitchen in rare form, and she was clearly putting effort into ...whatever it was. Shifting his gaze, he went looking for the other half of the equation. Val was...not at the legscraper? But a few moments later he blinked back into the present (maybe? Time was hard to judge from the shadows) in his room, with a container of something, which he then promptly stashed in the freezer.</p><p>What...?</p><p>Q stepped into the team lounge, which had reconfigured itself as it so often did...</p><p>...and Cudi felt his heart drop.</p><p>An intimate wood-paneled room, lights turned low. A simple, elegant table with two matching chairs. A single candle on the table.</p><p>It didn't matter that Q chased the version of the room off. Cudi knew how the legscraper worked - at least, inasmuch as anyone did. Something like that didn't come out of nowhere.</p><p>And Val appeared, a decanter of something fluorescent in his hand and that enviable easy smile on his lips. </p><p>
  <em>I couldn't bear the thought of knowing you were still stuck here, alone.</em>
</p><p>The Shadows echoed his thoughts back to him, remembering what Silvaire had said the other night.</p><p>
  <em>I could've never lived with the regret knowing you were by yourself in there.</em>
</p><p>And he'd told them he wasn't. That Mandy was there. That he'd spoken to Sam.</p><p>
  <em>It's the hardest thing in the world to go on without you there.</em>
</p><p>It didn't make sense.</p><p>
  <em>Out of every person I've met, you're easily one of my favorite.</em>
</p><p>Had it been ...what, a trick? A ruse? A way to make him stop fighting...to stop interfering?</p><p>
  <em>Stay safe in there, alright? For me. For us.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We've got your back, okay? Stay safe. I love you.</em>
</p><p>Cudi felt sick and he didn't know how. <em>No...no, I have to be misunderstanding. Ha ha, dumb Cudi, seein' things wrong.</em> But the dinner continued on, and Cudi spent hours trying to make sense of it. Trying to explain away what he'd seen, trying to convince himself that there was no way they'd go that far, to plan this much of an elaborate ruse...just to keep him quiet.</p><p>
  <em>Deception is what they do, Cudi. They're both champions of the craft. You think that if they worked together, they couldn't have you believe anything they wanted?</em>
</p><p>He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to even entertain the thought.</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I'll just wait. Tomorrow it will all go back to normal and I won't have to worry. It's just dinner. Whatever, people have dinner together all the time. Even Val and Q can have dinner. The legscraper was teasing, right? That's all that was. That's all that was.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>...please, is that all it was...?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>He was afraid to watch, to do anything. He tried jumping somewhere else and failed. Tried focusing on the exercises Sam had given him and couldn't. Tried to find his way to the Core and couldn't. He was stuck in the Shadows of the legscraper for at least the night, whether he liked it or not.</p><p>The team had to be asleep by now. If anyone was up at this hour, it would have been Quitter, but even she was passed out asleep. But like a dutiful parent, he checked on his teammates.</p><p>Silvaire's room was empty, of course. She wasn't usually there anyway.</p><p>And he got to Val's room.</p><p>And saw her climb into the bed next to him.</p><p>His whole body went cold, static filling his mind as he ran, as far into the Shadows as he could.</p><p><em>It was a plan. Everything was planned.</em> He desperately tried to wrench back the sobs choking him. <em>They'd send him to the Shadows, and Val would make a dramatic confession just before it wouldn't matter anymore, and then no one would have to worry about it anymore. One last attempt, to make it all look authentic. Give the idiot batter his closure. Let him fester in the Shadows, dreaming of a future that won't occur, while they laugh in their freedom to finally be together. <b>I knew it. I knew there had to be more to them. I was fooling myself.</b></em></p><p>It was ingenious, to get Q in on the plan, really. Q was unexpected, and convincing. He never would have guessed.</p><p>
  <em>Professional thief. You got hoodwinked.</em>
</p><p>Finally he collapsed, as if he'd hit a wall, and slid down to what approximated the floor, and fell apart. He'd let himself dream for just one moment...</p><p>...and now he tried to un-memorize the feeling of the mismatched jacket under his fingertips, and the brush of amethyst hair against his face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My way of coping with the potential of Val being sent to the Shadows, in order to get CDB back. Yes, I'm writing angst fic for something that might not happen. You're surprised?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It felt like being dragged through a tar pit, but he was leaving. <em>He was leaving</em>. They'd done it, they'd found a way to get him back - finally. Even with the moments of doubt, he'd never really questioned it. They'd get him out, and none of them would ever have to go back in again. He'd really started to warm up to Silvaire, now that he...thought...he had an idea of what was going on between her and Val. But...</p><p>...more than anything, he didn't doubt Val. He'd never been so certain of anything in his life. Even through the Shadows, he'd looked up at the pitcher and asked him to repeat himself, and he could still see the laugh in his eyes. <em><b>Cudi di Batterino. I fucking love you.</b></em></p><p>That moment would be etched into his mind for as long as he lived, and a while after.</p><p>And now, now finally they'd all be together again, back on the team and playing like they should be.</p><p>A hand caught his and tugged him forward, and he stumbled as he came out of the Shadows and back onto the immaterial plane. Stijn was standing there, an easy smile on the captain's face. "Welcome back, CDB."</p><p>Cudi laughed a little and straightened up. "Thanks, Cap. Good to be back."</p><p>"Go chat with the rest of the rotation; they're excited to have you."</p><p>"Yeah, I b--" He pulls up short. "Wait, what?"</p><p>Stijn isn't hiding the smile well. "You're in the rotation." He tilts his head to the room behind him. "Go on."</p><p>Cudi can't move. <em>I...I get to pitch?</em> His one dream, since joining the team - the one goal he'd been shooting for, the star he could never reach...and now it was his? The grin is blinding. "Shit, really??"</p><p>Now the captain laughs. "Yes, seriously. Go on, the team's waiting for you."</p><p>And with disbelieving steps, Cudi walks in to see the rest of the team, and they pile on him, cheering for their new pitcher. <em>Their new pitcher.</em> He couldn't breathe. Yusef, Ayanna, Goodwin, Seraph, Quitter... Gerund, Galv, Grollis, even Nandy - all congratulating him, telling him how good he'll be, how excited they are to see how it all works out. <em>Cudi di Pitcherino, huh?</em> Finally the long standing joke bears weight, as it's been lifted from his chest.</p><p>Eventually the team parted, leaving him in front of one last figure. Cudi grins. "Hey Q, what's with the long face? You hear? I get to pitch!" Silvaire nods, managing a small smile in return - but Cudi can see her heart isn't in it, and his own smile fades. "What...Silvaire, what's up? We gotta go tell--"</p><p>And then it sinks in. The tension in her figure. The sheen in her eyes.</p><p>"Where's Val?" Silvaire only closes her eyes, lowering her head. "No." He spins on his heel, back to the team - back to Stijn, who's come up behind him. "What the hell is happening? Where's Val?"</p><p>Stijn's expression is cautious, if empathetic. "It wasn't what we'd wanted, obviously, but..."</p><p><em>Someone had to go</em>. Cudi's mind finishes the sentence. It wasn't enough that he could come out. Something had to be given up. Something of equal value had to be lost.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck that, this isn't equal - how...??</em>
</p><p>"No." His nose burns, eyes blurring. "No, no you didn't." He spins to face Silvaire again. "You told me!"</p><p>She has tears running down her cheeks. "I tried--"</p><p>"You <em>promised me! You both did!</em>" He's screaming and he doesn't care. "It wasn't supposed to be like this!"</p><p>Stijn is still trying to troubleshoot. "We always told you we were working to get you on the rotation--"</p><p>Cudi isn't listening. "<em>Not like this!</em>" He can't stop the sobs at this point. "What the hell do you all expect me to do? I'm no replacement for--" His voice fails.</p><p>
  <em> <b>"God, Cudi. I'd take you <span class="u">everywhere</span> if I could. That's one of the perks of being able to bend time."</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then bend it. Break it if you have to, if it brings us to a time when we're together again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>"But man, if I had to pick a place, I'd choose this little sculpture garden I found in France. It reminds me of you."</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em>How can I ever look at anything the same ever again? How can I stand on that mound and know I got there at the cost of you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"How's it remind you of me, though?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>"Well, there's obviously the fact that you like plants, and I like art. So a sculpture garden is both of those."</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck the plants, Val. I can't help anything else grow when my soul's been stolen away from me like it's nothing more than second base. You were the art. You were always the art.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>"But also because that place feels just... real to me. I don't have to pretend or dress anything up. There's something about it that just brings out the best parts of me. Just like you."</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I told you then. You never needed to pretend. I wanted to be better for you. Be the best version for you. Wanted to pitch a shutout and walk down to you in the dugout with your stupid jacket and your blinding smile and hear you tell me "knew you had it in you, prettyboy" and kiss me and I wouldn't care who was watching because every dream I'd ever had would be true in that moment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. But not for a heartbeat have I ever regretted meeting you."</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I regret every heartbeat I spend out here at your expense. Any breath I take is one I've stolen from you, and I'm not supposed to be the thief here. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this I don't deserve this I don't want this this isn't what I wanted this wasn't how it was supposed to be</em>
</p><p>Cudi doesn't realize he's been running until he hits the door, and it takes him another long moment to realize where he is.</p><p>
  <em> <b>"I love you too. So, so much."</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em>...say it again?</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>"Cudi di Batterino. I fucking love you."</em> </b>
</p><p>His chest aches with the breaths he can't draw. He can't see but knows exactly what's in front of him. A couch missing two figures, one shadowed and one not. A television, no longer playing a movie. Laughter. Love. One brilliant moment, etched into his mind as long as he lived.</p><p>
  <em>Promise me we can do that again once I'm not a shadow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>"The second we pull you out of there, I'm gonna do that again and again."</b> </em>
</p><p>He collapses on the couch, and it's only then that he sees what's sitting on it.</p><p>
  <em>Good. I'll hold you to that, hotshot.</em>
</p><p>And that's when he knows it's not a terrible dream. That it's real. That he's really gone.</p><p>
  <b> <em>"Hey! My jacket isn't "goofy" it's <span class="u">avant-garde</span>."</em> </b>
</p><p>Half a violet duster, with a yellow band on its sleeve. Half a bomber jacket, flames licking up the sleeve.</p><p>It's still warm.</p><p>He doesn't know how long it's been, curled up on the couch - <em>one shadowed, one not</em> - when he hears the door open. He doesn't look up. It's not him. It'll never be him.</p><p>"Cudi." The voice is just as broken as his heart.</p><p>"<em>Why.</em>" Every ounce of pain, of anger, of despair rage hatred misery defeat comes pouring out in one syllable.</p><p>"You know we don't control their choices." He can feel her sit down next to him, but she doesn't touch him. It's for the best.</p><p>"Why <em>him? </em>Why <em>me?</em>"</p><p>It takes a long moment for her to answer, and her voice is little more than a whisper. "Because you're the better pitcher."</p><p>"He's <em>more than just stats!</em>" His voice cracks, over and over again, and it doesn't come close to the fragments left of his heart.</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"Can't we get him back?"</p><p>"...I don't know."</p><p>"We can just send someone else. Just like we did for you. Like we did for me."</p><p>"You know that's not up to us."</p><p>He dissolves into tears again, and this time he feels her hand against his leg. He doesn't have the strength to push her off.</p><p>"What am I supposed to do now?" He can't speak. The heat is fading from the jacket. His life is fading from his sight.</p><p>"We do our best. For him. And we fight to get him back."</p><p>Neither of them tried to speak, just letting the weights of their pain and memories sit between them, a blanket in commiseration.</p><p>"I love him."</p><p>"I know. ...I do too."</p><p>"I need him back."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>...</p><p>And for a split second, Silvaire sees something she knows Cudi can't.</p><p>"We can find him, Cudi. We'll find him."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm just officially making this the dumping ground for all my Valdivaire nonsense. Enjoy.</p><p>Val coming to terms with being foreshadowed.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Part of him had hoped that the game with the Flowers would have been the last one.</p><p>They hadn't won, but he hadn't given up. He hadn't wavered when Haynes tagged up to score. ...or when Haynes tied the game in the top of the 7th. </p><p>It had irked him when Winkler hit the two-run homer in the top of the 8th, but he'd kept his eyes on the out count and gotten the next batter out.</p><p>Cerna hitting the homer in the 9th was...irritating. But it was only a two run differential. He'd held the damage as best he could - better than usual - and now his team could make it the rest of the way. And...</p><p>...gods, they almost had. All they needed was one more moment, and Goodwin could have tied the game and sent them to overtime. But the game ended 5-4 Flowers, and Val Hitherto assumed that his time in the ILB had come to an end.</p><p>He was no fool. He felt the pull, like Silvaire had talked about last season before... </p><p>He shook his head, sending the memory away. There wasn't any way out of it this time. No running, no daring escape. No flippant grin and a twist of the Time-Rig and suddenly it was a season ago before everything went to hell on a sundae. No.</p><p>Val Hitherto was tired of running.</p><p>And if it was going to end, if he was going to run out of time, it was going to be on his terms.</p><p>He wasn't stupid. He heard the fans. And if anyone deserved a chance on the rotation...</p><p>...it was Cudi.</p><p>He hadn't mentioned it to the team. He didn't know how much they knew. Didn't want to know. Silvaire hadn't said anything. She had to suspect. She had to know. She always fucking knew.</p><p>
  <em>Some points in time are fixed. The end is always one of them.</em>
</p><p>He'd gotten his team as far through the playoffs as he could. He'd done everything he could...</p><p>...except one last thing.</p><p>He stood, taking off his jacket and folding it, setting it on the couch in his room. If nothing else, Silvaire would understand what that meant. What it had to mean.</p><p><em>Gods.</em> Just thinking about Silvaire hurt. He'd wanted to talk to her, one last time. Go on some stupid heist, eat on the rooftops of a city, watch the sunset. See if he could swipe that bracelet off her wrist again, just to see her face when he gave it back. Have a real conversation, as much it would make both of them uncomfortable. But it would be a familiar discomfort. One he was going to miss.</p><p>
  <em>Speaking of missing...</em>
</p><p>He was doing his best not to think about the other half of this equation. That he'd promised that they'd all be together again and they'd never have to go back to the Shadows. That he'd finally gotten a chance to <em>tell</em> the damn batter how he felt, just for them to be separated by a foreshadow gone sideways...</p><p>...and now he was doing it again.</p><p>He blinked hard, rubbing at his eyes. <em>Gods, I hope you understand, Cudi. I'm doing this for you.</em></p><p>It wasn't that he didn't want to be out here with him and Silvaire. He wanted it more than anything in the world. But ...it was time, and he knew it. And for someone who had spent his whole life running, living only for himself, it was fitting that the final thing he did...was lock himself away, where he couldn't run anymore, and give the man he loved a dream come true.</p><p>Maybe not the one they'd hoped for, but a dream nonetheless.</p><p>The more he felt the pull, the harder it felt to leave. His heart was racing, pounding in his ears, and more than anything he wanted to run. Turn, grab his jacket and leave.</p><p>But he knew he couldn't.</p><p>He sat down, keeping the jacket under him. It wouldn't work unless he was wearing it, and if it was under his useless ass, then he couldn't very well wear it. He focused on breathing as it felt like a vice pressed down on his chest.</p><p><em>Breathe in. </em> A flash of that first practice, and how surprised he'd been by how breathless he'd been left by the hitter who'd run into him.</p><p><em>Breathe out.</em> A memory of...Paris? Running through the back streets with Silvaire hot on his heels, both of them laughing like maniacs.</p><p><em>Breathe in.</em> The first time Cudi hit a home run, and desperately wishing he had the nerve to do anything more than give him a thumbs up.</p><p><em>Breathe out.</em> A breathless kiss neither of them had expected, that started as a ruse and ended...somewhere else, on a balcony in Rome.</p><p><em>Breathe in. </em>The feeling of utter panic when he saw Cudi's name on the foreshadow, and forcing the words out he'd been fighting back for years. The relief when he'd heard them back.</p><p><em>Breathe out.</em> The whirlwind of emotions when Silvaire first stepped out of the Shadows - and the utter amusement and lack of surprise when she'd sucker punched him.</p><p><em>Breathe in.</em> He can't, not without tears choking him as he fights for them not to fall.</p><p><em>Breathe out.</em> A cough, a gag, a life not ready to be ending.</p><p>
  <em>Some points in time are fixed. The end is always one of them.</em>
</p><p>He could feel the coldness setting in. Every inch of him wanted to fight. Every heartbeat he tried to give in.</p><p>
  <em>A Venice sunset, his jacket on her shoulders.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The end of a close match; the thrill of watching that 3-run homer.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whispers in the balconies, a breath away from each other and unable to speak, because a guard was feet away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A tight, unexpected hug at the end of a game, the eclipse still threatening behind them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The way her eyes lit up when she saw something she wanted...and how many times he'd wished she'd look at him that way.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The way his knee bounced before he went up to bat - but how calm he always was at the plate.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>...at least, wished she'd look at him like that when she knew he was looking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>One, perfect, brilliant moment where years of waiting, of wishing, of hoping came crashing together in a soft, hesitant kiss.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her eyes on his when they realized what had happened...and where their teammate had gone.</em>
</p><p>"I love you," he whispered. "I love you, I love you, I love you."</p><p>Over and over.</p><p>Until the room is empty.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Takes place immediately after the Twitter-based fight with NetherVal.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was furious. </p><p>He was more angry than he'd ever been in his life.</p><p>This...this asshole.</p><p>This son of a bitch had the audacity to stand there and use Val's face, Val's voice...and claim to be Val but say...the worst things imaginable.</p><p>He'd take him down with his bare hands.</p><p>And he hadn't been able to do as much as he'd wanted, but he'd helped - and his friends had helped. Silvaire, Zoey, Galv...all on the roof of the legscraper, letting loose on the bastard. It had been wildly cathartic to punch the ass in the face, and scream out frustrations at the situation. And watching him falter and fall had been the best Cudi had felt in ages. And when Silvaire finally pushed him through the ceiling into the Shadows...</p><p>...it had been perfect.</p><p>And then--</p><p>Suddenly the world is completely dark. His chest is tight, he can't breathe. His head is pounding</p><p>it feels like he's being torn apart</p><p>what is <em>happening</em> </p><p>it wasn't like this before</p><p>why</p><p>why can't i</p><p>what</p><p>He screams and there is no sound. He is nothing there is nothing everything is just black and nothing nothing nothing</p><p>...</p><p>...</p><p>...</p><p>And then the light is blinding, and he's choking on air and stumbling - falling - knee hits something and he crashes forward, only catching himself enough to make sure his face doesn't hit the ground. What he assumes is the ground. </p><p>It takes a moment for his vision to clear - and see where he is.</p><p>His room. In the legscraper.</p><p>He looks at his hands - no longer Shadow-sketched. <em>I'm...I'm out?</em> It didn't make sense. How was he out?</p><p>A glance across the room - a note on his desk.</p><p>
  <em>Hey CDB - </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just putting this here for you, since I don't know how it's going to work with you coming out of the Shadows - like it did for Silvaire or what. But They got you out, and you're finally in the rotation again. You may want to touch base with Silvaire once you feel like yourself again. And hey... I'm really sorry. We didn't want it to happen this way.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Let me know if I can do anything.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Stijn</em>
</p><p>Cudi stares at the note, mind not understanding the words until two, three read-throughs later. <em>On the rotation.</em> Which would have meant one of the existing pitchers got sent...</p><p>...back to the Shadows.</p><p>
  <em>It took Val, and spat me out. But...did it take Val? Or ...not Val?</em>
</p><p>Silvaire had laid that last hit in perfect time to send him away...and the Shadows had taken him. Cudi is positive that who they had been fighting was <em>not</em> Val. But...</p><p>The Shadows accepted him as such. Did that mean both of them were gone? Or had not!Val taken the fall for his alternate? Could that happen?</p><p>This was blaseball. Anything could happen.</p><p>
  <em>I need to find Silvaire.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Window of the Soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title for the chapter entirely attributed to Nickel from Discord. ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey V, can I ask you something?"</p><p>"Of course, anything." Val leaned on the metal railing at the edge of the path, facing the water but turning his head back to look at Cudi. They'd finally gotten a chance to go to the Falls - Silvaire not with them this time, but with promises they'd all come back together another time. They all had their own things to do with each other special for that set - and then there were things they all shared. It had taken a good bit of communication and conversation, but it was comfortable now.</p><p>"The patch on your eye. Do you...shit, this is gonna sound really crappy of me."</p><p>"You're okay."</p><p>"Do you wear it because you have to? Or for something else?"</p><p>Val was quiet for a moment, looking back out over the water, as the lights on the falls faded from red to orange, yellow, green. "It's...a little of both?"</p><p>Cudi came over to lean next to him. "Okay...?"</p><p>"Physically, no. There's nothing wrong with my eye. But..." Val lowered his head. "Ah hell, you know enough about this anyway." He looked back up - but still out over the water. Not to Cudi. Not yet. "NV. The one we put in the Shadows."</p><p>Cudi's expression darkened. "Yeah?"</p><p>"His..." Val gestured to his face. "His right eye. When you start really messing around in the time stream...it fucks you up. You get overloaded, and then it starts messing with the way you look. And his is corrupted. And..." He swallows. "I know how close it could be, me turning into him."</p><p>"Val..."</p><p>The thief shakes his head. "A few wrong choices along the way, and I know that could be me. So I wear the patch. To remind me of who I don't want to be...and so that if it happens, I can pretend it didn't."</p><p>"Val." Cudi leans forward, trying to catch Val's eye. "You're not going to turn into NV."</p><p>"I could," is the faint reply. "It's always a possibility. There's always a chance, and I hate it."</p><p>"Babe." Cudi straightens up so that he can turn Val toward him, hands on the thief's shoulders. "Remember what you told me about the garden? In France?"</p><p>"That it reminded me of you." The smile was weak.</p><p>Cudi just leveled a glare at Val. "That it was somewhere that felt real, where you didn't need to pretend or dress anything up."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>He just set a hand on Val's cheek, and the thief's eye closed. "You're so much more than he can ever be. Nothing you do can change that. He doesn't have Q. He doesn't have me. But you've got us."</p><p>"You can't keep me from everything." Val hated how shaky his voice had gotten. He didn't talk about this - didn't talk about any of this, with anyone. But how could he have told Cudi no? </p><p>"I can damn well try." Cudi smoothed back Val's hair from his face. "You shouldn't have to half-blind yourself because of someone you're not and may never be."</p><p>"I can see through it." It was only half a lie. He could, but not very well. Well enough to keep his vision from screwing up.</p><p>"You don't need to hide from us."</p><p>"What if I'm hiding from myself?" He couldn't speak anymore. </p><p>Cudi tilted Val's chin up with a crooked finger and held it there until the thief opened his eyes again. "We're all here to help you. All you have to do is stop running."</p><p>Val's breath hitched. "I...I don't know how. I've been running for so long, I..."</p><p>"Then let me hold you here." Cudi's hand paused, drifting up Val's cheek until it was resting against the patch. Val just closed his eyes again, and hoped that was indication enough. Slowly...so slowly, Cudi pulled the patch away from Val's face - and the thief could feel Cudi's fingers thread through his hair, pulling it out of his face where it usually fell - one more way to hide, to pretend. "Val." His voice was a whisper.</p><p>Nothing felt harder than opening his eyes.</p><p>But he did, blinking a few times to get used to seeing properly out of both eyes...and looked up at Cudi. That self-same batter-made-pitcher who had crashed into him before practice, the one who drunkenly flirted with him over text and then insisted nothing had happened. The one who had been stolen to the Shadows and at the same time, taught Val what it really felt like to have a piece of your heart torn away. The one who'd asked him about a garden in Paris and then made him repeat himself when he said he loved him.</p><p>The one who was looking at him like he held the Hope Diamond in his hands.</p><p>"I love your eyes." Cudi's voice was soft, a whisper - a promise. He smiled. "I love <em>you</em>."</p><p>And somehow though he'd said it a thousand times by now and heard it in return just as many...it felt like so much <em>more</em> right now.</p><p>"I love you too."</p><p>Cudi pressed a kiss to Val's cheekbone, just under the eye usually covered - then the other - then his lips. "Keep it off? For tonight?"</p><p>Val hesitated, but as always - he couldn't look Cudi in the eye and deny the idiot anything. "For tonight."</p><p>Cudi gave him a hug, which he easily returned. "I'll hold you here," Cudi whispered, and Val could feel his heart stutter.</p><p>"Please," was all the thief could manage in return.</p><p>But he knew...</p><p>...it would be enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>From the light filtering in through the curtains, it was still early morning - but that was generally when she woke. For a mistress of the shadows, she did love a sunrise.</p><p>Of course, the two next to her were still fast asleep. And despite herself, she didn't want to move and risk waking them.</p><p>Had you told Silvaire Semiquaver at the start of her time in blaseball that she would find herself sharing a room - sharing a bed - with Val Hitherto, she would have laughed in your face. Imagined it, and dismissed it, but laughed. Adding in Cudi, and the fact that her heart was lighter in these moments than it had been in decades...well. It hadn't even been a possibility on the horizon. Nothing she would have expected.</p><p>And yet, she couldn't imagine herself anywhere else.</p><p>Cudi had tucked himself close to her side, his fingers linked with hers resting against his shoulder so that she had him in a hug, essentially. His head listed forward to rest on Val's, who was facing Cudi, arm around the new pitcher's waist. Both of them looked impossibly peaceful. She hoped that she had half that peace in her own expression while she slept.</p><p>Her other arm was trapped under the both of them, her fingertips just barely able to brush Val's neck. She traced gentle patterns against his skin, only pausing when he stirred - but then he just shifted closer to them and settled again. She had to smile. Seeing Val this calm...it wasn't something she'd ever thought she'd see. So many shadows to hide from, too many enemies to outrun. He hid it all behind a bright flashy grin but she'd known him too long for it to fool her. She saw the panic in his eyes, the uncertainty. </p><p>Seeing him smile at the both of them yesterday, with none of that panic...had meant more than she cared to admit.</p><p>And Cudi...what a wild surprise he'd been. With Val, there'd always been tension, of course. You didn't spend that long as someone's rival without <em>something</em> happening. Cudi had been an utter strike in the dark. She knew he cared for Val - she was fairly certain everyone knew he was fond of Val except for Val, for the longest time. And seeing how happy Cudi made Val was a relief to her. The both of them deserved some happiness, especially after all they'd been through the past two years. Having Cudi then turn to her and ramp up the charm for <em>her</em>...</p><p>She'd never done well when others flirted at her. It was much more her element to be <em>doing</em> the flirting.</p><p>But somehow in his innocent, puppy-dog enthusiasm, Cudi had roped the three of them together and pronounced the argument settled...and none of them cared to argue. </p><p>And then they'd gone to France.</p><p>At first, she hadn't expected to be part of the trip. That was something for Cudi and Val, something they'd discussed while Cudi was still trapped in the Shadows. But...Val had reached out his hand, and Cudi had all but done the same, and how could she tell them no? (Putting aside the fact that she knew full well that Val couldn't get the two of them to France on his own and as such would have needed her help anyway. <em>That aside.</em>)</p><p>And it had been...amazing. A whirlwind.</p><p>Once they all woke up, they'd make their way to Prague and meet Val's sister - and <em>that</em> was bound to be an adventure in a number of ways - but for now... Now, Silvaire was content to rest, to feel the rhythm of Cudi's heart against her chest, to feel the rise and fall of Val's body as he breathed. To enjoy the way the morning sun filtered across their faces and brought out lights in them she'd never had reason or chance to see.</p><p>And as Val stirred and looked over at the both of them - caught Silvaire's eye - and gave her a small, sleep-heavy smile...</p><p>...for the first time in recent memory, she was content.</p><p>She was happy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the same story, told from both points of view. Now considered "non-canon" in the sense that anything in canon in blaseball, but also that it does not follow the events which have happened thus far in the Twitter-sphere they are borne from. But I still like it. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">I. Val</span>
</p>
<p>"Just make it stop, please Val, just make it stop," Cudi managed through clenched teeth.</p>
<p>"I'm not bending time for this, you idiot." The pitcher was on one knee in front of his teammate, Cudi curled up with his knee tucked to his chest, limbs stiff.</p>
<p>"It's getting stronger," Cudi whimpered, and it cut through Val's stoic shield.</p>
<p>"I know." Val was afraid to touch the batter. "Just means you're getting better."</p>
<p>"I don't want to get better, if it means this is going to happen more often." The batter tugged at his hair. "Just let me be terrible and keep this out."</p>
<p>"You don't want that, I don't want that, the team doesn't want that."</p>
<p>Cudi's fingers were clenched, and Val was starting to worry he was going to start pulling out hair. "I feel like I'm dying."</p>
<p>Val strangled back a reaction. "You're not going to die."</p>
<p>"I want to."</p>
<p>"No you don't." Val rested his hands on Cudi's knee. "You can't harass me if you're dead."</p>
<p>It at least got the thought of a breath of a laugh, which was all Val was hoping for. "Sure you'd like that."</p>
<p>"Nah, it'd be boring." If they kept talking, maybe it would help focus the batter. But Val was worried, because he could see the phosphorescent glow creeping back into his teammate's hands. "Cudi, stay with me."</p>
<p>"I'm trying," he managed, but his voice was breaking - into that horrifying amalgamation Val had heard that night what felt like a lifetime ago. It still showed up in his nightmares some nights, the image of his teammate, stepping up to the plate and lighting up like a flame - and sending the ball so far over the wall they'd never heard it land. Everyone had just watched him, until finally Stijn asked him what the hell that had been, and "Cudi" had just laughed, winked, and said "What can I say? I've been practicing."</p>
<p>It sounded more like Val speaking through Cudi, and the thief hated it.</p>
<p>The team started to adjust, appreciating the power Cudi suddenly brought to the team...but the dynamic was all wrong. They were playing better than ever, but their teammate wasn't...really...there anymore. Even when he put the bat down and the light dissipated, he wasn't the same person anymore. He was cocky, confident, bordering on arrogant...and that wasn't the Cudi they knew. It worked, but it wasn't comfortable anymore. This wasn't like when Silvaire had joined, though that had been a transition.</p>
<p>This was a haunting, like the Thieves dealt with. This was...this was... He'd had to go back. He tried not to overuse his abilities, but this had to be fixed. It wouldn't matter if they won the series if there was an imposter on the team. And he'd spent hours, days, jumping back and back again until he finally tracked down where Cudi had gone...and talked him off the ledge. Talked him away from losing himself to the apparitions in his head, from turning into a Frankenstein's monster of members of his family. And now it seemed...the more Cudi's personal talent improved, the harder it was for him to ward off the spirits.</p>
<p>The one time you didn't want a player to improve.</p>
<p>"I can't think, Val." Cudi's voice was snapping, warping.</p>
<p>Val reached over and pried the hitter's fingers open, pulling his hands away from his head and letting Cudi's fingers tangle with his instead. "I know." Val hated how his own voice sounded, rough and faint, a faded facsimile of what it should be. He fought for so long to keep distant, but just like the other Lift... Cudi had snuck under all his defenses and refused to let go. And now Val didn't know how to let go. Didn't know if he could.</p>
<p>"I can't... I can't..." Cudi was starting to hyperventilate, body shaking. He was losing the fight.</p>
<p>And Val could <em>not</em> let that happen.</p>
<p>"Cudi...Cudi, please. Focus. Look at me." Cudi shook his head. "Please look at me." After a long moment, Cudi opened his eyes and Val fought to not wince, Cudi's usually warm brown eyes now shining with twisted turquoise light. "Focus on me. Stay with me."</p>
<p>"I can't..." Cudi's eyes were watering, and Val wasn't sure he couldn't say the same. "I...I feel..." Cudi's leg slid to sit flat on the floor, grip on Val's hands easing. "Like I'm...I'm...slipping...away."</p>
<p>"Shit, Cudi - no, please no." Val dropped Cudi's hands, taking the batter's face in his hands. "Come on, hang in there. You can fight this. You can beat this."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, Val." He was calming, and Val knew that was a bad sign. "I'm...I'm sorry."</p>
<p>"No, no no no no no..." Cudi's eyes were drifting shut, and Val could feel his chest wrench. "Cudi, <em>please</em>..."</p>
<p>The batter reached out a limp hand, fingertips brushing Val's cheek as he managed a faint smile. "I'm glad...you're...here."</p>
<p>Val blinked, tears falling unbidden, and just before Cudi's eyes shut, Val bit the bullet and did the one thing he swore he'd never do. The one line he knew he shouldn't - he couldn't - cross.</p>
<p>He pulled Cudi to him and kissed him, desperate and broken, and hoping against all hope that it would be enough.</p>
<p>The batter didn't react, much if at all, though his hand did linger against Val's face. But Val couldn't bring himself to pull away. Because once he pulled away, he had no idea if it was still going to be the same person in his hands. If it was still going to be...</p>
<p>...the person he'd let himself fall in love with. <em>Dammit.</em></p>
<p>Just as Val was about to pull back, Cudi's hand strengthened against his cheek, and the batter kissed him back before pulling away himself, leaving Val wet-eyed and short of breath. "Cudi..." the pitcher whispered.</p>
<p>The batter hadn't opened his eyes. <em>Please...oh gods please...</em></p>
<p>"Cudi please..." Val's voice cracked and he hated himself for it. "Don't do this to me, don't leave me. I... I..." He still couldn't say it. He wanted to. He thought he needed to.</p>
<p>"I know." Faint, rough, and tired - but distinctly Cudi. Slowly the batter's eyes opened, and tired honey brown stared back at the pitcher. "I know."</p>
<p>Val breathed out a strangled sob of a laugh. "You son of a bitch. You told me you'd never do that to me again."</p>
<p>Cudi's thumb just traced back and forth on Val's cheek. "I'm sorry."</p>
<p>This time when Val leaned into the embrace, Cudi returned it easily, and it felt like the world had lifted off his chest. The batter's fingers twisted in Val's hair, holding him close until they both had to part to breathe.</p>
<p>"I love you." The words fell out of his mouth, words he promised he'd never say - but ones he needed to say, because for the first time in forever, he was afraid he'd lost his chance.</p>
<p>Val could feel the soft smile on Cudi's lips more than see it. "I love you too."</p>
<p>The pitcher crumpled, wrapping his arms around Cudi as the batter did the same to him, their relief covering them like a blanket, as they each learned how to breathe again.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span class="u">II. Cudi</span>
</p>
<p>The noise had been too much. Curled up best he could be in the locker room, screaming in his mind to make it all stop, Cudi tried to fight back. They'd had a hell of a time partying in the off-season, and now he was learning how he would pay for that. He was getting better--and the spirits knew he could go even further. They didn't need to push as hard, because they weren't fighting as far...and that gave him less room to run.</p>
<p>He knew Val was there, though the pitcher wasn't actually in contact with him. As always, Val was the only one who knew.</p>
<p>
  <em>He's always told me he hated who I became, in the future he stopped. We've come so far, we're actually friends, genuine friends... and I'm going to lose this because I'm too damn good at blaseball.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>You don't need to lose anything. You will only become stronger.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I don't want to be stronger, if it takes my friends away from me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>He is one person.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>So am I.</em>
</p>
<p>His hands were shaking, his whole body quivering. "Just make it stop, please Val, make it stop."</p>
<p>"I'm not bending time for this, you idiot." Val's voice was tight, and even with his eyes closed he knew how tense the pitcher had to be. Crouched at his side, trying to find a way to change the situation. Trying to find a solution that didn't exist.</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Let go. The gain for you, the gain for your team, is greater than one person.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He's more than a teammate. He's always been more. He means more.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>Your weakness is foolish. You will not prevail.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>"It's getting stronger," Cudi eked out, choking on the words. His chest was tight, breath shallow and fast.</p>
<p>"I know. Just means you're getting better."</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>See? He knows as well.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Shut up, shut up, shut up...</em>
</p>
<p>"I don't want to get better if it means this is going to happen more often." The fights had become a daily occurrence. Much as he didn't want to admit it, he wasn't going to be able to fight them off forever. There were more of them...they were stronger. Even for Val, Cudi didn't think he'd last. He reached up and clenched his hands into his hair, squeezing as tightly as he could, tugging down toward his face. "Just let me be terrible and keep this out."</p>
<p>"You don't want that, I don't want that, the team doesn't want that."</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>He wants you to excel. He knows you will be better with us.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He just said he didn't want it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <b>He does not want you to stay as the abysmal player you are now. You should excel. You should embrace the gift you have.</b>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I won't. Never.</em>
</p>
<p>"I feel like I'm dying."</p>
<p>He could hear Val make a strangled noise, but it sounded more distant than it should have. "You're not going to die."</p>
<p>"I want to."</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>You will die only to rise from the ashes, stronger than before. You cannot fight your destiny. You cannot fight us.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>"No you don't," Val's voice came again, still so far away though Cudi could distantly feel the pressure of the pitcher's hands on his knee. "You can't harass me if you're dead."</p>
<p>Cudi tried to laugh, and managed a breath of one instead. "Sure you'd like that."</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>You will cease to be a bother to the team. You will raise them to levels as no one else could.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>"Nah, it'd be boring." Val's voice kept getting fainter, further away, and Cudi started feeling cold...detached. He wanted to move his hands, move to reassure Val, to set his hand on the pitcher's arm...anything...but he couldn't move. "Cudi, stay with me." He almost couldn't hear him anymore.</p>
<p>"I'm trying," he whispered, but he could hear the spirits in his voice. Cudi scrambled, trying to fight his way back to the surface, but it was like swimming through molasses. "I can't think, Val."</p>
<p>As if it were happening to someone else, Cudi could just barely feel Val's hands reach for his own, forcing them to open and come away from his hair, and the pitcher laced their fingers together so that Cudi was holding onto him instead. The batter desperately tried to use that contact to find his way back, but it felt too far now.</p>
<p>"I know," the pitcher said, voice jagged. Cudi was hyperventilating, but at the same time, the tension in his body was fading. He was losing his grip.</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>We told you that you would not win. You have been destined for this. Cease the fight.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>"I can't... I can't..." He held onto threads, and could feel them slipping through his fingers.</p>
<p>"Cudi...Cudi, please. Focus. Look at me." Cudi's head shook - he didn't know how. "Please look at me." It took every ounce of effort he could manage, but his eyes opened - and again he could see his reflection in the sheen off the pitcher's eyes, eyes a twisted blue-green rather than the brown they ought to be. Val looked broken, exhausted, desperate. "Focus on me. Stay with me."</p>
<p>"I can't... I... I feel... like I'm...I'm...slipping away." He couldn't feel his body anymore, but could see Val's hands reach up to hold his face. He couldn't hear Val, though the pitcher's lips were moving. "I'm sorry, Val. I'm...I'm sorry."</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>You have one moment left. Make your peace now, or accept it as it is. Either way, your fight is finished.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>Cudi struggled to reach out to Val, his fingers barely brushing the pitcher's cheek. "I'm glad...you're...here." </p>
<p>The noise was deafening. Cudi closed his eyes, willing his mind to hold onto Val's face as the last thing he saw...</p>
<p>...and everything froze.</p>
<p>Something was different.</p>
<p>The noise wasn't gone, but it was like there had been a line cut through it, pushing all the sounds to the sides. Feeling returned to his body, slowly coming up out of the darkness...and the voices couldn't stop him. It wasn't easy, but he could climb again...he could fight again.</p>
<p>He didn't know how long it had been before he finally felt back in his body properly...and realized Val's lips were pressed against his, the pitcher's breath shaky.</p>
<p>That was the tether. The last ditch effort, the only thing that could cut through the noise...the last thing Cudi ever expected. One gesture, unexpected and uncertain, had jolted his mind just enough to throw everything off...and allow him to find himself again.</p>
<p>Val started to pull away, and Cudi managed to hold him for a brief second, his hand still weak at the thief's cheek. He couldn't open his eyes, but he could hear the shiver in Val's voice, the tears in his voice. "Cudi..." The batter tried to focus on breathing. On remembering. On centering himself.</p>
<p>
  <em>I can fight this. I am not alone.</em>
</p>
<p>"Cudi please..." Val's voice cracked, and Cudi's stomach twisted. "Don't do this to me, don't leave me. I... I..." The words never came, but Cudi knew them. Knew why they wouldn't come out, knew why Val wouldn't let himself say it. Cudi had always known. It's why he'd never said anything either. Why they'd walked in circles around each other for seasons, never speaking a word and letting seconds speak for them instead of minutes, of hours, of days.</p>
<p>"I know." Finally his voice came back to him, though it was a shadow of itself. Mustering his strength, he forced his eyes open - and he knew the glow had receded. Could see the pitcher's red-streaked eyes and tear-marked face, could see every emotion they'd never put to words screaming out through a single look. "I know."</p>
<p>The pitcher choked on an attempted laugh. "You son of a bitch. You told me you'd never do that to me again."</p>
<p>Flashes of a memory, seasons ago, in tears against the wall of the batting cages. <em>Make me one promise. <b>Anything.</b> Never - <span class="u">ever</span> - fucking do this to me again. <b>Deal.</b></em></p>
<p>"I'm sorry," Cudi breathed, letting his thumb trace against Val's cheekbone, over and over again.</p>
<p>Now when Val leaned back in, Cudi was ready for him - ready to return the embrace, to finally fall into ages of emotions he'd always kept at bay. To tangle his fingers in amethyst hair and feel Val's breath against his skin, and feel more whole and complete than he ever had before. It was a lifetime too short before they parted, now both short of breath.</p>
<p>"I love you." This time, Cudi's body flushed with heat - at words he'd never expected to hear. Ones he'd assumed, had extrapolated, had dreamed of...but never thought he'd hear. Val had been clear on that, to not expect anything grand or a proclamation or anything. Cudi understood. But now...to hear him say that...</p>
<p>All he could do was smile.</p>
<p>"I love you too."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey Q?" Cudi's voice was hesitant, which wasn't much the norm for the now-pitcher anymore.</p><p>Silvaire turned to look at him. "Yes?"</p><p>"Can I...uh, can I ask you something?" He tilted his head to the side, indicating a quieter conversation.</p><p>"Of course, Cudi." She stepped over, leaning against the wall he was standing next to. "What is it?"</p><p>"I've got...a thing, I told my dad I'd go to. But I don't really want to go alone, and I think it'd be more your scene than Val's. Would...would you go with me?"</p><p>Silvaire's smile was gently. "Of course, love. What kind of affair should I be preparing myself for? And when is it?"</p><p>"It's next weekend. And it's like...a fancy dinner thing."</p><p>"Fancy, mm? I think I can make it work. Just let me know where I need to be and when."</p><p>"I'll get you the address of the conference center. We can just meet there." When she nodded, he offered a small smile and walked away.</p>
<hr/><p>It had been a while since she'd had reason to dress up for an occasion, but Cudi had said "fancy," and Silvaire Semiquaver could <em>do</em> fancy. And this was a "fancy" that had made Cudi think specifically of her, which meant she likely didn't need to worry about overdoing it. She'd found a lovely dress for the occasion, a floaty black number with barely-there cap sleeves, and a line of perhaps half a dozen diamonds sitting just at the bottom of the V of the neckline, which offset the silver wire-wrapped black opal necklace she'd pulled out of storage nicely. Wisps of fabric floated to her ankles, feathering at the hem. She'd even found a nice pair of heels to go with it. Though as she walked up to the conference center doors, it occurred to her that she'd never really seen Cudi dressed up. It wasn't his MO, so to speak. He seemed to exist in track jackets and jeans, if not in uniform. And she was certain that anything he'd told one of his parents he'd attend wouldn't allow that type of look to fly.</p><p>She almost walked right past the figure leaning by the doors, head down as they watched their shoes. And for a moment...she wasn't certain it was him. But the posture, the height was right. "Cudi?"</p><p>The head popped up and sure enough, it was her teammate...and though she'd expected a change, this was more than she'd imagined. Not only was he wearing an impeccable three-piece suit - black jacket, deep purple vest and tie, white shirt - but his hair was combed neatly down and was...</p><p>...brown? </p><p>She'd never seen him without the green hair.</p><p>"Silvaire." Yes, that was unmistakably her partner, and the smile he gave her matched that. "Hey."</p><p>"Hey yourself. I'm...I wouldn't have recognized you."</p><p>His smile turned sheepish, and he scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's..." Cudi sighed and gestured to the door. "It's what they expect."</p><p>Which meant, of course, that his mother was here. She'd had the opportunity to meet Cudi's father, who was a darling individual with a wicked sense of humor, and she honestly couldn't see him requiring his son to dye his hair for a one night event. His mother, however... It would also explain why Silvaire was the better choice, rather than Val. Not only was this more her playing field, but...well. It was <em>hers</em> and not <em>his</em>.</p><p>"Well then let's give them what they want, hm? At least, our variation of it."</p><p>That got a shadow of his usual smile, and he offered her his arm - which she took with a smile as they walked in.</p>
<hr/><p>From the way he moved around the building, she never would have known this wasn't where Cudi was most comfortable. He knew the layout of the building, he knew every step in the social dance. They got to their assigned table and found Cudi's father there, greeting them both with a handshake for Cudi, and a hug for Silvaire. A few small words, and he let the two of them go - and then they were the center of attention. Everyone knew Cudi, and by association recognized Silvaire. He fielded questions about the team, about his family... Even when confronted with questions about why he was still playing as a pitcher, he met them all with a wry laugh and an assurance that he was certain it would all be fixed soon enough. A couple of seasons couldn't hurt him, right? It livened things up.</p><p>It didn't even sound like him.</p><p>But she could talk and schmooze with the best of them, and between the two of them they were the belles of the ball. Just before they were set to start the actual meal of the event, a woman came over and set a hand on Cudi's shoulder - and Silvaire didn't need to see anything more to know exactly who it was, from the way he tensed on her arm. "Cudi, dear heart. And here I thought you wouldn't show." The woman's voice was sickeningly sweet.</p><p>But Cudi turned a smile to his mother and gave her a hug. "Mother. It's been too long."</p><p>"It <em>has</em>, my darling. And who is this?" The woman turned her attention to Silvaire, and she had to fight to keep the murder out of her eyes.</p><p>"I told you about Silvaire, didn't I?" Cudi turned enough so that he could face both of them. "Mother, this is my partner Silvaire Semiquaver." Cudi kissed Silvaire's fingers, and she smiled in spite of herself. "As well as one of the stars of our team of course. Silv love, this is my mother, Mayumi di Batterino."</p><p>"A pleasure to meet you." Every ounce of acting in her voice, she smiled and shook the woman's hand.</p><p>"The pleasure is certainly mine!" Oh, they were acting at each other, and Silvaire could see it. Fine. She'd faced down far better women than this one before. "I'm so glad to see my son's finally found someone to bring back out the best in him." She patted Cudi's cheek. "No more nasty rumors about that...other one?"</p><p>Cudi sighed and shook his head, a slight roll of the eyes. "No, Mother, of course not. It was all absurd to begin with. I'm only sorry you had to deal with the fallout from it."</p><p>"Oh, all water under the bridge, sweet one. Now you have a lovely lady and I'm sure you're both very happy."</p><p><em>Oh, this is </em><span class="u">detestable</span>. Part of her had hoped that it <em>hadn't</em> been that type of situation, but of course it was. But she wasn't about to let Cudi take the fall for any of this. "We are," she responded, with no acting needed for the earnestness in the statement. "Cudi is a light in my life I'd never expected." Cudi glanced up at her at that, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek.</p><p>There was a flicker in the woman's eyes, uncertainty - suspicion - but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. "I'm so very glad to hear it. Well! Don't let me keep you from your meal. I'm sure we'll have time to catch up later, mm?"</p><p>"Until then, Mother." The older woman left, and Cudi turned to pull out Silvaire's chair for her.</p><p>"Thank you," she intoned, and he nodded, settling himself a moment later. "Cudi..."</p><p>He just shook his head, reaching over to give her hand a quick squeeze. "Later."</p><p>Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, but as the food arrived, she let the topic fall. As he said, it was something they could pick up later.</p>
<hr/><p>The meal was uneventful, and there were some speeches or some such for whatever the purpose of the event was - charity of some flavor, if she'd heard it right - but then after it had returned to a social affair. However, now there was dancing - and Silvaire remembered quite vividly being told that Cudi could theoretically dance.</p><p>"Care to?" she asked, nodding toward the dance floor. </p><p>His gaze tracked to where she'd nodded, then back to her as he stood, offering his hand. "Of course."</p><p>She took it and let him lead her to the floor, and they settled into an easy waltz. <em>So it hadn't been all talk.</em> Cudi moved like he knew what he was doing - had been doing it all his life.</p><p>For all she knew, he had.</p><p>But there was a tension in her partner's frame she knew wasn't normal. "Talk to me, Cudi." Silvaire set her head next to his, so she could keep her voice as low as possible.</p><p>He rested his head against hers. "I can lie about all of this until I'm blue in the face and be fine, but I <em>hate</em> having to lie about Val. I hate it, <em>I hate it.</em>" </p><p>She hummed softly, turning her head to kiss his hair. "I can imagine. But you know, I hope, that what I told her stands true."</p><p>Cudi nodded, just enough that she could feel his head move. "I know. And it means a lot to me. I..." He sighed. "I don't want to make you feel like second-best."</p><p>"Oh Cudi love, you don't do anything of the sort." She rested her hand at the back of his head, smoothing his hair down. "You are an absolute doll, and between the two of you, I'm not sure I've ever felt so loved in my life. You are an utter treasure."</p><p>His arm tightened around her in a small hug. "Thank you, Q."</p><p>"Thank <em>you</em>, Cudi."</p><p>And as they danced, they shared little stories - memories of each other, of Val, of the three of them - anything that would make them laugh just a little and lean into each other. Yes, half of it was to play the part for the eyes Silvaire knew were watching...but the other half was to feel the tension leave her lover's arms, and know that even here among those who would have him be anyone but himself...he still had her.</p><p>Eventually the music shifted, and she pulled back enough to see the brilliant smile on Cudi's face - and had to smile back. "Thank you for this dance, Mr. di Batterino," she said, an amused glint in her eye.</p><p>"Oh no, Miss Semiquaver. Thank <em>you</em>." And despite herself, when he kissed her, she felt her heart flutter.</p><p>
  <em>I will not his family destroy him. I refuse.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Val..."</p><p>"No, I can do this." His partner is determined - more than usual. "I'm not afraid of her."</p><p>"I never said you were. It's just... Val, she thinks you're a rumor."</p><p>"Well I'm not."</p><p>"I know you're not. But even in public, I don't know my mother will be able to keep civil if I show up with the..." Cudi pulls out his phone to read the latest text. "Other man you seem so insistent to hang off of as if you were nothing more than a trophy wife."</p><p>"You'd make a lovely trophy wife."</p><p>"Val, I'm serious."</p><p>"So am I." The thief met his gaze without hesitation. "I've been to fancy shit with Silvaire. I know how to act. But she needs to get punched."</p><p>"Babe, please don't punch my mother in the middle of a public event."</p><p>"No promises. Cudi..." Val takes the other pitcher's hands in his. "You shouldn't have to hide. You always tell me that; now it's my turn. You are who you are, and if she doesn't like it, then she can stop inviting you to shit and expecting you to be the son she wanted instead of the son she got."</p><p>Cudi hesitates, but then just sighs and lets go of Val's hands so that he can give him a hug. "You're too good to me."</p><p>"Nah, I'm just good at being convincing."</p><p>Cudi chuckles. "Mmhmm."</p><p>"So can I come?"</p><p>"You know you're going to have to be like...<em>real</em> fancy. <em>Normal</em> fancy."</p><p>"Oh, I'll surprise with you how normal I can look, prettyboy. Just you wait."</p><p>Cudi just sighs. <em>I hope he's being serious.</em></p>
<hr/><p>And back they were, to the same convention center as the event he'd gone to with Silvaire, and again he stands and waits at the door in his suit, hoping against all hope that Val is actually going to live up to his promise. He doesn't really have a reason to think Val won't, but...well, with Val, it's hard to tell sometimes.</p><p>He hates this outfit. The only time he wears it is for situations like this, and he only gets away with it because he doesn't need to come to many, so his mother doesn't comment on the fact that she only ever sees her son in one outfit. <em>As long as it's "society-appropriate," I'm not sure she'd care, anyway.</em> Of course she would. This was Mayumi di Batterino, after all. There was an image to uphold.</p><p>One her child had never been able to live up to. One he'd never wanted to live up to.</p><p>"Cudi." The pitcher looks up - and his breath catches in his throat. True to his word, Val is almost frighteningly normal...and yet still managing to bring his signature flair to the outfit. He too is in a black jacket and pants, but with a silk paisley-patterned purple shirt along with a black tie. Save for a few wisps of lavender at the ends, his hair is his natural deep brown...</p><p>...and both eyes are visible, framed behind tortoise-shell glasses.</p><p>He's only seen Val like this once, when he caught him early in the morning the day after he'd come back from the event with Silvaire. But this... this is different. This is a social event where he knows Val is already going to be uncomfortable and singled out...and he's still coming with both eyes open. This is a message, both to his mother...and to him. Of what this means, of how much it means.</p><p>Cudi can't speak.</p><p>"You okay there, prettyboy?" Val walks up to run a hand through Cudi's hair - back to brown again. "You lose your voice along with the green?"</p><p>Cudi coughs. "No, just..." He shakes his head. "You look amazing, yo."</p><p>Val's cheeks flush, but the thief winks. "Same back at ya." He reaches out and takes Cudi's hand. "C'mon. Let's go show these people a thing or two."</p><p>And even with as much trepidation there is in his heart...he can't help but feel Val's confidence rub off on him.</p>
<hr/><p>It's a somewhat smaller affair this time around, since it's mainly a New Year celebration - but "smaller" means something different to the di Batterinos than it does to the rest of the world. The event spaces are decked out with food and drink, already crowded with the usual high society types his mother surrounds herself with. They all greet Cudi, comment it's good to see him, ask him who he's with. He bites back the full truth and says Val's a teammate of his. Val won't let go of his hand, which gets a few askance looks but no words. These are society people; they know when to speak and when to whisper behind their hands.</p><p>In a moment of quiet, Val tugs Cudi to the side of the room. "Why do you keep saying that?" Val asks.</p><p>"What do you mean?" Cudi's voice is weak; he knows exactly what Val means.</p><p>"That I'm your teammate."</p><p>"You are my teammate."</p><p>"Cudi." Val levels a glare at the taller of the two of them. "How did you introduce Silvaire?"</p><p>"As my partner. ...and my teammate."</p><p>"Why do you care what any of them think?" Cudi doesn't have an answer for that. "Babe, we're both public figures. It's not like they don't see us together. Why lie?" Cudi just watches Val, hoping he can see the answer in his eyes. And of course, he does. "It's just your mom, isn't it?"</p><p>"I don't want to know what she'd do, if she really wanted to make a scene."</p><p>"Cudi." Val sets his hands on Cudi's arms. "Who matters more to you, me or your mom?"</p><p>Cudi looks horrified. "How can you even ask that?"</p><p>"I want to hear your answer."</p><p>"You, of course. Always you."</p><p>"Then let her know that. There's nothing she can do we can't fix. The team's with you. Silvaire's with you. I'm with you."</p><p>Cudi watches him a moment longer, then sighs. "Okay. ...Okay."</p><p>Val squeezes Cudi's arms before letting them go. "I love you."</p><p>"Love you too."</p><p>"Cudi?" </p><p>Cudi looks over Val's shoulder and smiles. "Hey Dad."</p><p>Val turns and smiles as well. "Hey, Wes. Long time no see."</p><p>"Val!" Cudi's father shakes Val's hand, clapping him on the back with the other. "Now here's a surprise. I didn't expect to see you."</p><p>"Told Cudi I wanted to come to the fancy party this time. I'm very persuasive."</p><p>Wes laughs. "Yes, I bet you are. And nice shirt."</p><p>"Thank you! It's a favorite."</p><p>Cudi gives his father a hug. "Good to see you, Dad."</p><p>"Good to see you." The tone quiets. "Have you seen her yet?"</p><p>Cudi shakes his head. "No, not yet."</p><p>"Does she know Val's here?" Cudi shakes his head again. "Bold move."</p><p>"I'm tired of lying," Cudi sighs. "If she's so ashamed of me, then she can stop using me as her free promotion. Or she can accept that her son is a pitcher with two romantic partners."</p><p>Wes smiles. "You know I'm behind you, kid."</p><p>"I know. Thanks, Dad."</p><p>"You two have fun." He sets a hand on both their shoulders before vanishing back into the crowd.</p><p>Val laces his fingers with Cudi's. "That's a good start."</p><p>"He already knows." But there's no force behind the sentence, and his smile deflates what might be left.</p><p>"Come on. I want to go meet this mother of yours before midnight."</p><p>"Oh gods..." But he lets Val drag him back out into the crowd, and though he stumbles on the words, the next person who asks is told that Val is his partner and teammate. No one asks about Silvaire. All for the best.</p>
<hr/><p>It's nearly half past eleven when Cudi feels the vice on his shoulder, and his body tenses on its own. "Cudi. A word?"</p><p>"Of course, Mother." Cudi turns to face her, and he can see the fury in her eyes. "What did you need?"</p><p>"Alone, please."</p><p>He feels Val's grip on his hand tighten, and Cudi shakes his head. "Anything you need to say to me you can say here."</p><p>Cudi sees her jaw clench, but she simply shifts her weight. "Fine. Then I'll ask you here. What in the seven hells do you think you're doing?"</p><p>"Attending the event you invited me to."</p><p>"With <em>this</em>?" A hand gesture to Val.</p><p>"Hey, I have a name," the thief pipes up.</p><p>"Val, please," Cudi whispers.</p><p>"I know full well you have a name," Mayumi spits back. "And it's not one that has any place at this event, nor with my son."</p><p>"I don't think you get to choose that for him."</p><p>"Val, <em>please</em>."</p><p>"And you think you do?" Now Mayumi's attention is fully on Val.</p><p>The thief doesn't back down. "Of course not. Cudi makes his own decisions. And some of us support those, unlike others."</p><p>Oh, that gets the fire into Mayumi's eyes. "How dare you."</p><p>"How dare <em>I?</em> I'm not the one who refuses to accept him for who he is. I've seen the, honestly, <em>bullshit</em> you've been sending him. How you talk about him, about Silvaire and me. How you talk about him pitching."</p><p>"My son is a di Batterino."</p><p>"Point?" Val shakes his head, eyes wide. "He's a blaseball player, and he's a better pitcher than he is a batter. Hell, he's a better pitcher than I was. And he's going to do the team proud, and I don't see why you're not happy with that."</p><p>"It's a <em>disgrace.</em>"</p><p>"Pretty sure the only disgrace here is standing in front of me."</p><p>That gets Cudi to tug on his hand. "Val, no, please, it's fine."</p><p>"It's not fine, Cudi." Val's eyes are still on Mayumi's, burning with an anger Cudi hasn't seen since he found out what NV had been telling him. "If she's going to use you as free publicity because you're her family and you're a blaseball star now, then she can treat you like family."</p><p>"I am treating him the same way I would any other member of the family."</p><p>"Then your family's even more fucked up than mine, and that's saying something."</p><p>"Val, stop, please." Cudi's hand is tight on Val's.</p><p>"I have half a mind to smack you for that." Mayumi's voice is tense.</p><p>Val just grins. "Oh, please do. Give me a reason to hit you back."</p><p>"You wouldn't dare."</p><p>"Try me. Please. I'm begging you."</p><p>Cudi's had enough. "Both of you, stop." He moves so that he's more between the two of them. "Val, stop trying to provoke my mother into violence."</p><p>Val's eyes flicker to Cudi's, but he takes a step back.</p><p>Cudi lets go of Val's hand so that he can turn back to Mayumi. "But Mother, he has a point."</p><p>"I don't need to hear this from you."</p><p>"No, I think you do." Seeing Val's anger has given him the boost he needs. "If you want me to keep pretending to be your poster boy, then you need to accept who that poster boy actually is. And that's a pitcher for the Tokyo Lift, who happens to have two partners of different genders. I'm not going to hide from that anymore. Gods, I don't know why I even need to justify this to you. Yes, Silvaire and I are in love. So are Val and I, and he deserves to be treated better than some secret I should be ashamed of, because I'm not. Having Val and Silvaire at my sides has been the best feeling I've had, possibly in my life. And if you make me choose between my family and my heart, I know exactly where I stand."</p><p>He's pretty sure his mother is about three seconds from self-combustion. "We will discuss this later, Cudi Kidlat di Batterino."</p><p>"There's nothing left to discuss." Cudi's voice is firm. "And I'm a di Pitcherino now."</p><p>Mayumi, utterly apoplectic, just turns and storms off - and Cudi hears Val laugh behind him.</p><p>"Now that was even better than punching her. Still wish she'd given me reason to, though." Cudi grabs Val's hand and pulls him down a hallway, out a door into the open air, on the rooftop of the conference center - everything cast in a haze of blue from the scrolling tickers above them arching toward the sky. "Whoa - Cudi, where are we going?" Cudi doesn't speak, just pulls him out to a railing overlooking the rivers, and stops. Once they've stopped moving, Cudi can't help himself but start shaking. "Cudi - babe, what's wrong?"</p><p>"What the fuck did I just do?" His voice is shaky, broken.</p><p>Val wraps his arms around Cudi, pulling him close. "You stood up for yourself, and I am so damn proud of you."</p><p>"She's going to ruin me."</p><p>"I'd like to see her try."</p><p>"She will. You see all these connections she has."</p><p>"And we'll knock them all back down. You know the team won't stand for it."</p><p>Cudi falls silent, draping his arms around Val in return, burying his face in the thief's shoulder. "I'm terrified."</p><p>"I know. But you were amazing."</p><p>It's a long moment before Cudi's calm enough to pull back. "Thank you."</p><p>"For what? You're the one who kicked ass back there."</p><p>Cudi chuckles, but there's little humor in the sound. "You got it started."</p><p>"She was asking for it." But Cudi can see the mischief in Val's eyes, glittering out from behind the glasses.</p><p>He brushes the thief's hair back, letting his fingers linger in Val's hair. "How did I get so lucky to have you fall in love with me?"</p><p>"Ask myself the same question about you every day, prettyboy."</p><p>Distantly, they can hear the count to midnight start.</p><p>"Let's make a deal. New Year's resolution."</p><p>Cudi raises his eyebrow. "Oh?"</p><p>"For both of us. We both work on not hiding as much. Not from each other, not from Silvaire, not the team. We take this year to be ourselves. Find ourselves. Together."</p><p>And as the clock ticks midnight, Cudi smiles. "Deal." He leans in and presses a kiss to Val's lips, and it's still just as amazing as the first time, that he can share this with him. To feel the love radiating off this man...and know that Val can feel the exact same from him.</p><p>"Love you, hotshot. Happy New Year."</p><p>"Love you too, di Pitcherino. Same to you."</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cudi sits in the chair by his desk, staring at the sheet music Silvaire just dropped off for him. He knows the notes. It'll be good to have them, just to practice a bit, but he knows the piece. He hates that he knows it, but he does. It's been ages since he's had to play it, and even longer since he's been able to play it with a violinist, but...</p><p>Well. It reminds him of his childhood. And honestly, for as much as that sucks remembering, this gives him a way to write a new memory over it. To share something he once enjoyed...with someone he loves.</p><p>His lips quirk at that thought. <em>Someone he loves.</em> Not something he'd expected to say about someone like Silvaire. For so many reasons.</p><p>He'd dated girls growing up, but more than anything, that was to keep his mother off his ass. Sure, they were pretty and all, but...it just never really felt like that. The few guys he'd been able to sneak off with...they had been different. So he just assumed he was gay, and he didn't have a problem with that. But his mom did, so he played the straight man and just never had a long term relationship. Eventually he moved out and dated who he wanted to date... rarely told anyone about it, but was neither here nor there.</p><p>And of course, once he'd gotten onto the Lift, his eyes had been on Val. And it had stayed that way for years.</p><p>And then, Silvaire Semiquaver stepped out of the shadows with all the deadly grace of a coiled viper and sucker punched Val in the stomach, and for a split second he'd forgotten how to breathe.</p><p>After that, he'd been intimidated. Confident, powerful women made him nervous under the best of circumstances - add in that Silvaire was <em>gorgeous</em> and seemed to have a pre-established relationship with Val, and that put her way out of his reach. So he'd continued to stay quiet, and just hope that someday he'd work up the courage to say something to Val - and she wouldn't have beaten him to the punch.</p><p>Then of course everything with Val had happened, and he'd got thrown into the Shadows...and Silvaire and Val had come to see him. And he'd been surprised at how good it was to see her. To hear how much she cared he'd gone. He'd known he needed to see Val.</p><p>He hadn't known how much he needed to see her.</p><p>And then he'd seen them at dinner, and it had been a twin spike to the heart.</p><p>Coming out of the Shadows, the showdown with NV...everything after felt like such a rush, such a whirlwind of chaos. But once it had calmed down, once he'd found more of a comfortable pattern with Val...</p><p>He still noticed how his chest tightened around Silvaire. Still found himself tongue-tied if she even thought about being flirtatious around him. So he stepped out on a limb - and flirted back.</p><p>The blush he'd caught on her cheeks the first time had been like a fire in his chest.</p><p>From there it had been...almost frighteningly easy. He'd figured out ages before that Val and Q still had feelings for each other. They both seemed to like him, and he liked both of them. Ta-dah - a triad is formed. And they'd gone to France, and... He'd forgotten.</p><p>He'd forgotten how amazing it felt to fall in love.</p><p>Yes, there was a tiny piece of him that wondered if it was...some kind residual inclination, to find someone of "higher class" to be attracted to, but...if it was, he wasn't sure he cared. Much like he'd always been certain of his affection for Val, he was positive about how he felt for Silvaire. And there was something about seeing her just a half step thrown off her game by something he said or did...it was better than any high he could imagine. In some ways, she let him be the perfect combination of his worlds. Val was everything he'd wanted he'd never been allowed - but Silvaire was the perfect combination. The counterbalance of the high-class lifestyle, all with the undercurrent of rebellion she brought out in himself by...encouraging him to actually follow his dreams. Follow his heart.</p><p>The only word he can think of is overwhelming. In the best, most breathtaking way possible.</p><p>His eyes return to the music. It's his mother's favorite, unsurprisingly. It's immensely difficult, requiring both a pianist and violinist of brilliant caliber, and she had been determined to see him perform it. He has it memorized - or at least he did once. And back then, he'd dreaded performing the piece.</p><p>But now...the thought of performing this piece with Silvaire?</p><p>He feels lighter just at the thought of it.</p><p>
  <em>Just wait, beautiful. I'll give you a performance you'll never forget.</em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As a note: the piece Cudi is talking about is Strauss' Violin Sonata in E-flat Major.</p>
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